


Stupid bets and warm hands

by martianapplecrumble



Series: Of cold Witcher, and the warm one that melted his heart [7]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: (I guess?) - Freeform, Belly Rubs, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sickfic, Soft Eskel (The Witcher), Stomach Ache, mentions of Geralt/Dandelion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26394073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martianapplecrumble/pseuds/martianapplecrumble
Summary: "You know what?!" Lambert exploded at last. "If I win that round, you confess your bard!"Ah yes. The stupid smirk faltered. Lambert felt better at that.Geralt considered that for a while, scratching at his stubble."Oh, well... and it you lose, you'll confess to Eskel?" he raised an eyebrow."I have nothing to confess!" Lambert crossed his arms.Lambert gets involved into a stupid bet and gets a stomach ache as a result. Luckily, he has someone to help him with it.
Relationships: Eskel/Lambert (The Witcher)
Series: Of cold Witcher, and the warm one that melted his heart [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1868587
Comments: 14
Kudos: 82





	Stupid bets and warm hands

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by an actual stomach ache I had this morning x))  
> I'd also like to thank @_DKinzoku and @_kaduki1024 for suggesting additional ideas for this fic 🌻

Lambert never considered himself to be a patient type. And well, now his not-so-good patience was already being tested.

"How long're you going to beat around the bard's bush?" he brought up when Geralt and him were playing gwent one night. They offered Eskel to join too but he was busy chopping wood, and Dandelion didn't know how to play the game at all so there was no point in asking.

"And what the hell makes you think I'm beating around his bush?" Geralt asked, looking at his cards and pretending he doesn't know a thing - but Lambert _knew_.

"Well, for one, the way you're wagging your tail in front of him. Oh, don't look at me like that, save your stares for bruxas or shit." Lambert made his voice high-pitched, mimicking Geralt. "Oh, are you cold, Dandelion? Here, take my jacket? Oh, should I make you dinner? Need anything else? My bed perhaps? Or my-"

"Shut it, Lambert," Geralt growled.

"Oh, I will. Once you pull your head out of your ass and tell him that your brain only knows the word "Dandelion" now or some other shit like that," Lambert smirked, setting one of his own cards on the table and taking a swig of ale from the mug sitting on the table.

"That's Eskel's mug," Geralt pointed out.

"Don't change the topic!" Lambert raised his finger, supressing a blush. "So are you going to tell the bard you wanna bed him or not? If you thing we don't notice the way you stare at him dreamingly when he isn't looking-"

"Lambert. He's my friend," Geralt glared at him in warning, but Lambert just ignored it. But then, Geralt's expression changed in a way that Lambert... didn't really like.

"And also, Lambert... you plan on telling Eskel too, don't you?"

Lambert choked on his ale. It was Eskel's ale but fuck that.

"What the fuck're you talking about!" he exclaimed, a little too fast as his heart started racing.

Oh, how much he wanted to rub this sly smirk off Geralt's face.

"Ah yes, you're gonna tell me you developed a love for cooking then? Especially when it's Eskel's turn and when he takes off his shirt because it's too ho-"

"You're making that up!" fuck, don't blush, don't fucking blush, don't show him, he's just messing with you...

"And what got you so bothered then, hm?"

Who the fuck allowed that bastard to look so pleased?

"I'm not bothered! It's called anger, dumbass! You're accusing me of something that doesn't fucking exist!"

"Yeah, yeah, sure. At least I don't deny my feelings for Dandelion.."

"You know what?!" Lambert exploded at last. "If I win that round, you confess your bard!"

Ah yes. The stupid smirk faltered. Lambert felt better at that.

Geralt considered that for a while, scratching at his stubble. If all goes well, the bard will get one hell of a beard burn, Lambert thought.

"Oh, well... and it you lose, you'll confess to Eskel?" Geralt raised an eyebrow.

"I have nothing to confess!" Lambert crossed his arms.

"Oh, very well," Geralt nodded, going through his set of cards once again. "Then, I guess... you'll eat three cucumbers."

Lambert's face scrunched. Yeah, sure, there were many things a witcher could consume without a scratch, like all these elixirs made of drowners' brains and fiends' shit and whatnot. But cucumbers made Lambert's stomach go absolutely nuts. Well, everyone has their own allergies, don't they? Even Eskel. Lambert knew raspberries made his skin itch.

But well, eating cucumbers didn't seem as horrible as confessing to Eskel. Lambert was pretty sure Eskel wasn't even into guys, let alone him. And he didn't want to lose what they had. The way Eskel hugged him to warm him up, the way he cared for him, and even let him sleep in his bed when Lambert had nightmares. He didn't want to end the connection they've had for decades, all just because he developed a stupid crush.

And cucumbers? One day of stomach cramps, what's that compared to losing someone dearest to you?

"Yeah fine, cucumbers'll do," Lambert nodded, his voice bitter as ever. "Now, let's play."

Geralt raised an eyebrow. Ah yeah, didn't expect that, didn't he?

"Lambert, look-"

"I'm done looking," Lambert cut him off.

"But-"

"Yeah, I have one and so does your bard. So, are we starting or not?"

***

Several hours later, doubled over in pain in his bed, Lambert wondered if he'd made the right decision. But only for a second, because imagining the look on Eskel's face if he confessed to him hurt so much worse.

So he wrapped his arms around his aching stomach, eyes watering as he bit his lip. Okay, he's strong. He'll endure this. He'll be fine, he'd had it worse...

Lambert squeezed his eyes shut as another pang of burning pain followed, bringing a bitter taste to his mouth. It still tasted faintly of cucumbers, making Lambert want to puke.

Fuck, was it that difficult for Geralt to just tell Dandelion about his feelings? Everyone who had eyes could clearly see that the bard was deeply in love with Geralt. Lambert could practically see hearts floating around Dandelion's head when he sang for Geralt or was just near him, for that matter.

But no, he had to take Lambert to the point of bringing up a stupid bet and suffering through horrible aches. Of course. Fuck Geralt.

(Even though he clearly expected Lambert to say no and tried desperately to talk him out of the idea).

He heard a knock on the door. Ah yes, exactly what he needed, to be reasoned by Geralt while nearly throwing up from pain.

"Fuck off, Geralt," he muttered from clenched teeth.

"Lambert, it's me."

In spite of Lambert's suffering, his heart jumped in his chest. He would recognise this warm, low, slightly hoarse voice everywhere.

"Oh. Y-yeah, come in," he managed, weakly.

The sound of the door opening, then Eskel's footsteps, a thud of something being put on the table and the bed creaking a little as Eskel sat down on it next to Lambert.

"Asked Geralt where you were and he said you've got a stomach ache," Eskel whispered softly, resting a hand on Lambert's shoulder. "What happened to you?"

"Lost a bet," another fit of horrible pain followed and Lambert clenched his poor stomach tightly, wincing. "Had to eat cucumbers."

"Cucumbers?! Lambert, why'd you-"

"Yeah, I know, I know, I'm stupid," Lambert gritted his teeth.

The hand on his shoulder moved to his head, stroking gently through the hair. Lambert closed his eyes, the pleasant sensation distracting just slightly from the pain. He heard Eskel sigh. Oh yes, great. Now Eskel thinks he's a dumb piece of shit. Lambert felt his eyes sting.

But this was still better than getting rejected by him.

Eskel never stopped stroking him, though.

"Don't go for such bets again, alright? Don't hurt yourself, please," he whispered, and in spite of the situation he was in, Lambert felt warmth in his chest. Eskel cared for him.

"I'll try," Lambert managed.

"That's good..." Eskel murmured, his voice still slightly worried. "Brought you somethin' that'll help. Do you think you can sit up?"

Lambert tried his best, but to his frustation, he found that even simply removing his arms from around his stomach was too much of a task.

"Okay, that'll wait. Lay back," Eskel's voice was soft as ever as he placed a grounding hand on Lambert's shoulder.

"I'll do it, Esk, just-" damn, Lambert hated himself and his weakness so much.

"Lambert," how could his voice be so calming and yet so firm? "No. Just relax. Let me try something else."

Lambert closed his eyes and nodded. Whatever it was, he trusted Eskel with it. Hell, he'd trust Eskel with his life.

He felt Eskel lay down next to him. Felt him gently move his tense arms away, exposing his aching stomach. Lambert would protest, but he knew that Eskel knew what to do. He couldn't, however, help the pained noise that escaped his throat.

"Shhh," a soft kiss was pressed to his temple and Lambert all but melted; he could count all the times Eskel kissed him on his fingers, and, even though in all these moments he was suffering physically or emotionally, he cherished every single one of them. "Let me-"

And then, a large, warm hand was placed on his stomach, and Lambert let out a sigh of relief. If there was something that always made him feel better, it was warmth. And, of course, Eskel.

"How is it?" Eskel asked quietly.

"Better..." Lambert whispered, moving a bit closer.

"Good," Lambert could practically feel the other witcher's smile and opened his eyes to see it. Nothing was as beautiful as Eskel's smile.

Eskel looked at him with warmth in his eyes, and Lambert couldn't help but smile back and shift even closer. When Eskel wrapped his other arm around him, he already relaxed enough. There was just this feeling of comfort in Eskel being close to him that made the pain ease.

Eskel moved the hand on his stomach a little, stroking it gently, rubbing soothing, warm circles into it, every moment seeping inside Lambert and taking the ache away little by little. Lambert sighed, burying his face in Eskel's neck, breathing in his warm scent as Eskel worked on easing his suffering.

Eskel stopped for a moment, concentrating, and Lambert wanted to tell him to go on, but then the hand on his stomach became even hotter, and Lambert let out an embarassing quiet moan, praying that Eskel wouldn't notice. Luckily, even if Eskel noticed, he didn't mention it, instead rubbing his poor tummy with his large, rough, and ever-so-warm palm.

"How is it?" Eskel whispered.

"Better, so much better," Lambert reassured him, the pain barely noticeable now, the warmth of Eskel's hand and body and his scent consuming him like the coziest blanket.

"D'you want me to give you the decoction?"

Without thinking, Lambert wrapped his arm around Eskel's middle. "No. You're better."

"I'm not going anywhere," Eskel's voice close to his ear was so soothing, so soft in spite of how rough it was. "You can drink it and we'll go back, just like now."

Eskel was probably right, but Lambert didn't want to leave these strong arms, didn't want the warm hands to leave his belly, didn't want to move away from Eskel even for one inch, let alone drinking a whole ass decoction. And yet, he obliged, and to his surprise it didn't taste horrible, just herbs and a hint of berry that Lambert couldn't recognise. Once he was done, he slipped back into Eskel's embrace, snuggling up to him and pulling his hand atop of his stomach.

And how damn good it was, being next to Eskel like that. Maybe eating cucumbers was worth this.

Lambert purred softly under Eskel's heated palm, feeling so content and relaxed and cared for, and his ache was almost gone by now. He was almost asleep, surrounded by Eskel's warmth and scent, his heart too full of love and affection for the witcher next too him.

"Eskel," he said, barely audible and barely realising he was talking at all.

"Yes, Lambert?" a rumbling whisper to his ear.

"I've got something to confess," by now, he was barely coherent as well.

"Hmm?"

But Lambert already drifted to sleep, not even registering another kiss pressed to the top of his head.


End file.
